


No matter how much leather they wear

by gracicah



Category: due South
Genre: Handcuffs, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 00:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracicah/pseuds/gracicah
Summary: Fill for Seascribe's C6D prompt:"Fic exploring that scene in Chicago Holiday where Ray arrests Fraser at the BDSM club. Because Ray looks shocked and disappointed, and Fraser looks a bit awkward but not at all embarrassed. Maybe Fraser decides to broaden Ray's mind a little. Handcuffs might possibly be involved."





	No matter how much leather they wear

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [seascribble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seascribble/pseuds/seascribble) in the [DS_C6D_Prompt_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DS_C6D_Prompt_Meme) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Fic exploring that scene in Chicago Holiday where Ray arrests Fraser at the BDSM club. Because Ray looks shocked and disappointed, and Fraser looks a bit awkward but not at all embarrassed. Maybe Fraser decides to broaden Ray's mind a little. Handcuffs might possibly be involved.

The Calibri case was over, the West Side was about to get a whole lot cleaner, and Ray had finally managed to get the smell of garbage out of his nose. Better than that, he got to rub the little matchbook in Gardino's face thanks to the quick reflexes of his own personal Canadian loony. He was feeling good, and once he got Fraser out of his uniform and into the nearest bar, he was all set to add to his natural buzz with a couple of beers. It was a flawless plan that would have gone perfectly if he hadn't caught a glimpse of that dominatrix attorney waltzing around the dance floor just before Fraser politely ushered him out the door. It niggled at him as he looked at Fraser over the rim of his glass, earnest and cheerful as always. He had looked just as unruffled to be arrested at that club as he did right now enjoying his ginger ale. How had he managed that?

This thought stayed in Ray's head on beer one, but came spilling out of his mouth somewhere near the dregs of beer two. Fraser gave him a line about how it paid to be calm, cool, and collected no matter what the environment – pretty much just what Ray had expected him to say – and he was about to drop it when Fraser added that he had the advantage of being “not unfamiliar with that style of milieu.”

“English, Fraser?”

“I merely mean to say that it was not my first time in an establishment of that sort.”

“You can't tell when a woman is throwing herself at you, but you've been to a sex club before?” Ray snorted in disbelief. “You really are a magnet for weird cases.”

“Oh, no, Ray. It wasn't for a case.”

Cue Ray's eyes bugging out of his head. “You went to a kinky bondage club on your own time? For fun?”

Fraser, bless him, was not in the least perturbed by this line of questioning. “Well, it was several years back now, during my brief time in Moose Jaw. You know, one of its nicknames is actually Little Chicago – ”

“Can we skip the history lesson, please?”

“Of course, Ray. During my time there, I happened to meet a very nice young man who introduced me to the subculture, and I found I rather enjoyed – ”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Ray gesticulated wildly. “A man? First I find out you're into this bondage stuff, and now you're also gay? Can you even be a gay Mountie?”

“Actually, yes, since the passage of bill C-150 in 1969.” Not that some distant bill would do much to protect Fraser from the attitudes of his fellow officers, Ray guessed. Maybe there was more than one reason he'd been transferred so many times.

“You're kidding me.”

“Not at all.”

“You expect me to believe the Canadian government passed a homo sex bill in '69, of all years?”

“I don't see what the year has to do with it, but yes, it did.”

“Six feet tall and yet it still flies over his head,” Ray muttered to himself, raising his eyes to the heavens. Ray hadn't noticed Fraser tensing up before, but he saw him visibly relax at Ray's nonchalance. He belatedly realized that maybe Fraser had expected him to give him more of a hard time about it. If Ray hadn't had a walk on the wild side in his youth, maybe he would have, but he wasn't really one to throw stones on the being-with-a-guy front. Not that it was the sort of thing he wanted anybody to get wind of, of course.

“At any rate, I consider myself bisexual rather than gay,” Fraser continued, choosing to ignore his ribbing. “It just so happened that it was a man who introduced me to these particular sexual practices.”

When Ray opened his mouth, what he meant to say was “Don't say that so loud,” but what actually came out was “What did he introduce you to, exactly?” Fraser gave him a considering look before he replied.

“Perhaps it would be best for us to have this conversation elsewhere.”

Which was how they ended up in Fraser's pathetically unfurnished apartment discussing BDSM by the light of a lantern. Bizarrely, all Ray could think about was how this must be what people went camping for: this feeling of quiet intimacy, of being able to share things that could never be mentioned in broad daylight. Maybe, he reflected, that was why his father could never be bothered to go camping with him. His father's idea of a real man didn't open up under any circumstances.

“I've always had a high tolerance for pain,” Fraser was saying in hushed tones, pinning Ray with that sincere, wide-eyed stare of his. “Besides which, I often find myself in extreme circumstances in which my body is pushed to its limits. It's... exhilarating. If I'm honest, I must admit I chase that feeling. What I didn't realize, and what Ed helped to show me, was that I can harness that feeling, that release of endorphins, in a controlled environment with someone I trust.”

Ray bit back his knee-jerk response of pointing out all the uncontrolled situations Fraser had put them in with people who definitely could not be trusted and were in fact actively trying to kill them. Instead, he nodded and said, “So you like it when somebody hurts you?”

“Certain kinds of pain, yes. Other kinds are not as pleasant.”

“What kinds do you like?”

Fraser closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Ray's eyes followed the line of his throat, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed before responding.

“He flogged me a few times. I liked that very much. More than I thought I would, in fact. He was quite skilled at establishing a rhythm and then strategically interrupting it.” Ray cringed at the thought. He'd been on the wrong side of his dad's belt enough to know how it made him feel, and it wasn't good. He guessed that was one benefit of Fraser's dad not being in the picture – he never had the chance to put the fear of God and leather into him.

“Ray?” Fraser had opened his eyes and was looking at him with concern. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”

“It's okay, Benny,” he sighed. “Different strokes for different folks, I guess.”

To his utter surprise, Fraser giggled. When he got it, Ray started laughing too.

“Just...” he began when they had calmed down. “You really like it?”

“Is that so hard to imagine?”

Ray closed his eyes for a moment and tried to picture it. Fraser, stripped of his clothes and likely tied up as well, wincing at the thwack of leather against the skin of his back. Knowing him, he'd probably instructed whoever tied him up on how to do the knots. Probably knew how to undo them just as quickly, but he wouldn't. He would allow himself to be displayed, wounded, marked... and he would, to hear him tell it, enjoy every moment of it. Maybe his cock would throb with each lash.

Or maybe he'd jerk away, his breath hissing between his teeth, unable to escape the unrelenting strokes. Held down, tied up, no way out, and Ray just watching helplessly, unable to make it stop, because then it would be him too, and it should have been, should have been him and not Marco Matroni on the ground with his face smashed in...

Ray opened his eyes to find Fraser watching him thoughtfully. It was useless to pretend his expression hadn't betrayed his thoughts, so he just shook his head and held up a hand when Fraser opened his mouth to speak. They sat in the shadowy silence for a long moment as Ray composed himself.

“I can imagine how I'd feel if it happened to me, or if I saw it happening to you. I don't like it.” He saw Fraser's face close off, but continued: “But my imagination comes from where I've been. Where I come from, you hurt people to get them to respect you, to fear you, and you don't stop until they do. Way up in Moose Factory, I'm guessing it didn't work like that.”

“Moose Jaw,” Fraser corrected him automatically. “Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it didn't only work that way.”

“And this Ed showed you another way?”

“Yes.”

Ray took a deep breath. “Can you show me?”

Fraser froze, hope warring with disbelief on his face. Ray forced himself to hold his gaze. At last, he came to a decision and nodded. “All right.” He reached out with one tentative hand to brush against Ray's cheek, his touch so light Ray could barely feel it. When Ray didn't flinch away, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Ray's.

“There are some rules we need to follow,” Fraser murmured against his lips before pulling back to look him in the eye. “I will trust you to follow them, and you need to trust me.”

“All right,” Ray assented. “What rules?”

He listened, lips still tingling from the kiss, as Fraser explained safewords and boundaries and aftercare. He had to repeat everything back before they could begin. He would never have guessed from looking at the people in the club, decked out in ridiculous fetish gear and throwing around casual references to lewd acts, that so much thought and preparation went into the kind of stuff they apparently did behind closed doors. He wasn't entirely sure how much of it was Fraser's unique take on the lifestyle and how much was really universal. Surely people like that weren't all such sticklers for the rules, right? Didn't they get off on danger? And anyway, wasn't sex supposed to be better when it was spontaneous?

His train of thought derailed when Fraser undressed and came over to him, not to kiss or caress him, but to kneel before him and reverently remove his belt. He nuzzled his face against the front of Ray's pants and leaned back to look up at him with those earnest blue eyes.

Then he took Ray's hand and wrapped his fingers around the folded-over belt.

Ray knew what came next. Fraser wanted to be bent over the side of his bed, handcuffed to it, and...

“Ray.” Fraser had a grip on his wrist. “This stops when you want it to stop, even if you want it to stop right now. Understood?”

Ray nodded mutely.

“And if I want you to stop, what am I going to say?”

“Red light,” said Ray.

“That's right. Right now, though, my light is green. What color is your light?”

Ray looked from the belt in his hand to the bed, from the bed to Fraser's upturned face.

“Green, Benny.”

Fraser's smile lit up his face. Ray smiled back, caressed his cheek with his free hand, and brought him up by the chin until he was standing. He stepped back and took a moment to drink in the six feet of naked Mountie in front of him before turning him around and marching him over to the bed. Fraser bent obediently at the touch of Ray's palm on his back and stretched his arms out in front of him without being asked. When the handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists, he tugged on them gently and let out a hum of approval.

Ray gripped the belt a little tighter. He could do this. Benny wanted him to do it. He was waiting for him – wrists cuffed, naked as the day he was born, completely at his disposal.

“Hold on a second,” Ray muttered. He went over to where he had stashed the key to the cuffs and put it in Fraser's right hand, closing his fingers over it the way Fraser had closed his over the belt. There. _Now_ he could do this.

At the first crack of the belt against his skin, Fraser pushed his face into the blankets and let out a low groan. It sounded like a happy groan, but...

“You okay, Benny?”

“Yes, Ray. Still green.”

“Okay.”

Ray kept going, striping Fraser's ass and the backs of his legs, drawing an increasing volume of noises from him. He caught the muffled suggestions of words like “yes” and “please” and “more” and even the occasional needy whine when he was too slow in delivering the next stroke. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn't this: getting turned on by the sight of Fraser's startled little jump each time the belt hit home, the noises he was making, the wet patch of sweat and saliva forming next to his open mouth.

Fraser squirmed against the edge of the bed. Ray thought he was recoiling from the blows until he noticed that the squirming didn't stop when he held off for a bit. It was the point of this whole exercise, but he still couldn't believe it – Fraser was getting off on this! Experimentally, he hauled off and gave him a really good whack. Fraser keened with pleasure, snapped his hips forward, and moaned Ray's name.

“You still feeling good, Benny?”

Fraser's “yes” sent a jolt of heat straight to Ray's cock.

“You think you can come like this, or you want me to give you a hand?”

“I can – like this – ” Fraser panted against the sheets. He was a sight to behold. His face and his ass were equally deep shades of red, and his whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat. His back curved and arched as he pressed his erection into the sheets, half seeking friction and half bracing for the next blow.

Whack! The handcuffs rattled as he tried to pull himself farther up the bed.

Whack! His thrusts became more frantic. He buried his face in the covers to muffle his shout.

Whack! Ray could see that Fraser's legs were beginning to shake.

Whack! He turned his head to the side just enough to get out “Ray, I'm – ” before the words were lost and he was spilling onto the bed, his body trying to curl in on itself. Ray dropped the belt and rubbed small circles on Fraser's lower back, avoiding the stinging red lines the belt had left. Fraser shifted beneath his touch.

“May I...?” He held up the key to the handcuffs. At Ray's nod, he freed himself and moved to sit before wincing and lying back down on his stomach. Ray tried to suppress his guilt at the sight.

“You got any lotion or anything?”

“I have some salve in the bathroom.”

Ray popped open the small tub of salve and massaged it into the marks he had left. “I'm guessing I don't want to know what's in this,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

Fraser looked like he was considering telling him anyway, but thankfully thought better of it.

“You were wonderful,” he said instead. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling? Aren't you the one who just took a beating?”

“I am the one who requested said beating in the first place, and you were obliging enough to indulge me, for which I really can't thank you enough.”

“Only you would thank a guy for taking his belt to you.”

Fraser raised an eyebrow at him. “I can think of several people who would disagree with you there.”

Ray laughed a little hysterically. He was one of them now, wasn't he – one of the freaks in the Halloween costumes on the wrong end of a police raid. But then, Fraser was one of those freaks too, and he was... well, he was still pretty weird most of the time, but not that kind of weird. You wouldn't know it to look at him, and it didn't make him a bad person. He was still just Benny, the guy who licked dirt and never used a door when a window would do. Benny, who believed in people with such tenacity that they had no choice but to live up to his faith in them.

Benny, who was looking at him a little funny at the moment. Ray reached down to ruffle his hair affectionately and was rewarded with another of Fraser's moans as he pushed his head into Ray's touch. His body's reaction to the sound made him uncomfortably aware that he was still fully clothed. He wasn't sure whether him getting off was part of the deal, but if he couldn't ask when Benny was sprawled out naked before him, when could he?

“Hey, do you mind giving me a hand here?”

Fraser smiled at him as earnestly and politely as if Ray had requested assistance with some perfectly innocent task, but ruined the effect by licking his lips. “If you're so inclined, I could give you more than a hand.”

“Jesus,” Ray breathed, and hauled him up for a kiss. It got dirty quick – Fraser was loose and relaxed, his lips open and inviting, his tongue sliding against Ray's. He made a few failed attempts to get Ray out of his clothes without breaking the kiss before he reluctantly pulled away enough to finish the job and Ray was once again treated to the sight of Fraser on his knees before him. He put a hand on Fraser's cheek and Fraser surprised him by taking a hold of it and moving it to his hair. He gave him a significant look before leaning forward and taking Ray into his mouth.

Reflexively, Ray's grip tightened in Fraser's hair. Fraser moaned around his cock, his nails digging into Ray's hips, and it was all he could do not to buck up into Fraser's mouth. He watched enthralled as Fraser played with the head, making obscene popping sounds when he slid it between his slick, swollen lips. God, _there_ was an image he was never going to get out of his head. Now that he knew what it felt like, Ray could just picture himself getting jealous of a gum wrapper, or a rock from off the pavement, or whatever strange thing Benny got it into his head to lick next time they were on a case. _Put that down and put your tongue on me instead_, he would have to somehow keep from saying out loud. And Fraser would just look at him with that guileless look and say, “What is it, Ray?” As if he hadn't swirled that tongue around the head of Ray's cock, dragged it slowly up the underside of his shaft, teased his slit with it. As if Ray hadn't seen his chin shiny and wet with a mix of spit and pre-cum as he pulled off for just a moment to admire his work.

Fraser trailed one of his hands from Ray's hip to his groin, kneading and caressing the sensitive flesh as he used his elbow to gently push Ray's legs farther open. For just a moment, Ray caught a glimpse of the irritated skin around his wrist where the handcuffs had dug in, and then Fraser's hand was on his balls and he was close, so achingly close to the edge.

“Please, Benny, please, I'm gonna – ” He loosened his grip on Fraser's hair to give him a chance to pull off, but Fraser just made a little “mm-hmm” noise and kept right on going, swallowing without so much as breaking his rhythm. He held Ray in his mouth as he softened, his eyes closed in bliss, and when Ray finally had to guide him back, he rested his head on Ray's leg and smiled up at him only a little smugly.

Ray just barely had it in him to roll his eyes at Benny's childishness before flopping back on the bed with a very satisfied sigh.

“You win,” he capitulated. “I'll be nicer to our brothers and sisters of the kinky persuasion.”

“Well, Ray, I would hope you'd have done that anyway – ” Fraser had to dodge as Ray blindly groped for his head in order to smack it – “but I'm glad you've found it in your heart to be more accepting of alternative lifestyles.”

**Author's Note:**

> *tiny wave* Hi, dS fandom! I realize I'm about 25 years late to the party, but I only somewhat recently found out this wonderful show existed, and boy has it been a ride. The amount and quality of fic and other fanworks I've seen for it is simply amazing.
> 
> I rewatched Chicago Holiday with my boyfriend for "research purposes." He hadn't seen it before and got a real kick out of the MacGuffin gags, the handcuff joke, and – perhaps because it was the last in a long line of setups and payoffs – the Latvian kid being the son of a diplomat, which he didn't see coming. He described it as a master class of comedy writing, and I'm inclined to agree with him.
> 
> The title is part of a quote from the episode: "I know that people are people, no matter how much leather they wear." Moose Factory is a real town in Ontario - Ray didn't make it up, although I'm sure he thinks he did.
> 
> This story was the less silly of two ideas I had for this prompt. If I finish the other one, I'll post it separately.


End file.
